


Bearer of Ill Tidings

by apolesen



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, first wizarding war
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-08
Updated: 2013-04-08
Packaged: 2017-12-07 22:06:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/753608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apolesen/pseuds/apolesen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The day after a particularly violent full-moon, Peter visits Remus and brings his worries with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bearer of Ill Tidings

The sound of the door woke Remus from an uneasy sleep. First, he did not move or even open his eyes. Sirius said he wouldn’t be back until the next day - it couldn’t be him... Snapping into wakefulness, he pushed himself up, ignoring how his joints protested at moving so quickly. Footsteps were approaching - he took his wand from the bedside table. There he sat, wand pointing at the door, his pulse rushing in his ears. The footsteps were just outside the bedroom door... 

...and the intruder knocked on the doorframe. The tenseness suddenly disappeared, as Peter appeared. 

‘Hiya, Moony,’ he said and grinned. ‘You look awful.’ Remus felt the temptation of lowering his guard, but knew better. 

‘What did I get you for your twelfth birthday?’ he asked. Still grinning, the man in the door answered: 

‘A Muggle book on mythical beasts. It was hilarious.’ Remus lowered his wand. ‘What’s your favourite word?’ 

‘“Peripheral.”’ Peter stepped in. 

‘You shouldn’t enter a room without your wand out,’ Remus said gravely. ‘I could have been lying in wait for you.’ 

‘The Death Eaters wouldn’t impersonate you,’ Peter said and laughed. ‘Not on the day after the full moon. They’d have to beat up one of their own to make it look convincing.’ He stopped and thought about it. ‘On the other hand, that means that if I meet you on the day after the full moon and you seem fine, then it probably is a Death Eater.’ Remus rolled his eyes at him. 

‘Are you just here to chat?’ he asked. ‘Nothing’s happened, has it?’ Peter shook his head and summoned a chair. 

‘No, nothing. I just thought I’d drop in. I was at Prongs’ yesterday and heard that Padfoot was off today, so I figured you’d be stuck here.’ Remus sighed. 

‘Yes, I am. More than usual, in fact.’ 

‘Was it a bad night?’ Peter wondered. 

‘Do you want to see?’ He looked uncertain. ‘It’s all covered in bandages, so it’s not that nasty.’ 

‘Alright, then.’ 

With some effort, Remus leaned forward and tugged away bedsheets and nightshirt to expose his leg. It was bandaged from his ankle to above the knee. The bruises went halfway up his thigh. Peter looked at it, eyes huge. 

‘Cut or bite?’ 

‘Bite,’ Remus answered. ‘Apparently I got hold of my back leg when I tried to bite Padfoot. He tried to make me let go, and my teeth ripped the muscle.’ Peter made a disgusted sound. 

‘And there’s nothing you can do about it?’ Remus shook his head and covered his leg up again.

‘They’re cursed wounds. They can’t be healed by magic. But they’ll heal within a few days. Then I’ll be back on duty.’ He said the last bit lightly. There was not really any duty to be on, because Order members did not have time off. The frontline and the battlefield was anywhere the Death Eaters decided to strike, so there was no opportunity for leave, if it was not for a reason like Remus’. ‘But until then, I’m stuck here.’ 

‘Completely?’ Peter said, sounding like that must be very inconvenient. 

‘I can’t walk on this leg, so no.’ 

‘Crikey.’ They fell silent for a while, then Peter got up. ‘How about some tea?’ 

‘Yes, please.’ He gave him a sloppy salute and left. Remus arranged his pillows and leaned back gingerly. The movement itself was painful, but it was much nicer to lie down than to sit up. He felt himself slipping into sleep again. 

Remus came to again when Peter poked him hard on the shoulder. He rubbed his eyes and sat up slowly, dragging his bad leg after him as he leaned back against the pillows. 

‘Sorry,’ he murmured and rubbed his eyes. 

‘You’re a rubbish host, Moony,’ Peter said and laughed. ‘Here.’ He pushed a cup of tea into his hands, and held it there until he was certain that his friend’s stiff fingers had closed around it. 

‘This is awfully decent of you,’ he said and sipped the tea.

‘Don’t mention it. I made some toast too.’ Remus laughed into his tea. 

‘You and your bloody toast.’ 

‘If that’s the way you look at it, I’ll just have it all myself,’ Peter said, mock-annoyed. 

‘Give me a slice, Wormtail,’ he muttered and held out a hand. Peter handed him a piece of toast, and for a while they were occupied with their food. 

‘Do you have any idea where James and Sirius are?’ he asked. Remus, who had was just finishing a second slice of toast, shook his head and swallowed. 

‘No, they didn’t say. They shouldn’t.’ 

‘Of course,’ Peter agreed. ‘I just don’t want them to run into trouble.’ Remus did not know what to answer. Whenever he thought about the risk that something would happen to any of them, it felt much like being half-way through a transformation. 

‘They know how to take care of themselves,’ he said quickly, in order to convince himself just as much as to answer Peter. 

‘Sure they do,’ he agreed. He beat the crumbs off his hands and crossed his arms over the back of the chair, which he had turned to the front. Remus reflected, as he had several times the past few months, how much more mature and independent Peter seemed now than before. It was as if the war was helping him to finish putting himself together. That at least was one good outcome of this war. Most of the time, it changed people to the worse. 

‘I just can’t stop thinking about Dorcas Meadows,’ Peter admitted with a helpless shrug. 

‘Me neither,’ Remus said. ‘It was horrible.’ He had been in the search-party who had found her. It had not been difficult, because the Dark Mark had been set over the grove where her body lay. She had been killed by the Avada Kedavra curse, but they had been able to tell that she had been tortured before that. The worst did not come to light until Dumbledore saw the body, and announced that Voldemort himself had cast the curses. 

Now, he looked over at Peter, who had his eyes on the floor. In that unobserved moment, Remus glimpsed fear of a kind he had never seen on Peter’s face before. He wondered what had brought that about. They had not known Dorcas very long, after all. That did not mean they were not grieving (even if Remus sometimes felt like all the grief he should feel, for Dorcas and the Bones family and all the others who had died, did not fit inside of him), but that quick flicker of hidden emotion seemed so personal. Perhaps there was something he did not know about. For all he knew, Peter had been in love with her. He considered asking, but before he had time to, Peter spoke. 

‘Remus, don’t you think it’s odd?’ 

‘What?’ he asked, suddenly alert. That he had used his name rather than his nickname must mean this was something serious. 

‘All these people dying,’ Peter said. He sounded earnest and a little scared, but he was controlling it now. ‘It’s like they’re picking us off.’ 

‘I heard Dumbledore say that for each of us there are twenty Death Eaters,’ Remus said. He tried not to think what that actually meant. ‘We’re outnumbered.’ 

‘But it’s more than that,’ Peter said urgently and leaned a little closer. ‘Just because there are more of them doesn’t mean they can suddenly find us.’ 

‘No...’ His answer was hesitant. He had no idea what Peter meant. Peter did not seem to like where his own train of thought was going, because he leaned back again, scratching his head. Then he took a deep breath, looked at Remus and said: 

‘Don’t you think Sirius has changed?’ 

Remus stared at him, feeling his jaw tighten. Had he not recently thought about the ways war could change people for the worse? It had done just that to Sirius. Sometimes he could still catch glimpses of the old Sirius, with his devil-may-care attitude, his silly sense of humour and his seductive ways, but lately he had become more and more on edge. A few times, he had answered polite questions by shouting, or not at all. It was as if there was some barrier between them. Remus had thought that the fault was somehow his, but if Peter had noticed it too... 

‘We’re all under a lot of strain,’ he said. He did not really want to express his own worry. ‘Sirius is firm as a rock most of the time, but when there are important things at stake...’ 

‘So you do think he’s changed?’ Peter pressed. Remus looked away and wrapped his arms around himself, as though it was suddenly very cold.

‘Yes.’ He heard Wormtail sigh. 

‘Well, if you’ve noticed it, then it’s probably happening. After all, you know him in a way we don’t. You see more of him than any of us.’ Remus bit his lip. Hearing Peter talk about his relationship with Sirius made him feel uncomfortable, but at the same time he was glad that his tone was so tolerant, more so than it had been in the beginning. Still, what he had said now was more painful than any casual prejudice. It made his throat feel tight, and when he spoke it was in a trembling whisper. 

‘I thought it was me.’ 

‘Don’t be daft,’ Peter said and shot him a look. ‘You’re just the way you’ve always been. Padfoot, though... It’s like he’s got his mind somewhere else. Like he knows things we don’t.’ 

‘It’s the war,’ Remus said, surprising himself with how firm his voice sounded. ‘It’s bound to affect us... No wonder he’s in a foul mood...’ 

‘When was Padfoot even in a foul mood with you at school?’ Peter shot back. ‘Never. Not even when he poked fun at you.’ 

Remus closed his mouth and bit the inside of his cheek. 

‘What are you saying?’ he asked. Peter shrugged. 

‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘I just think it’s very strange.’ He got to his feet with a sigh. ‘I need to go. I’m supposed to liaise with Moody and a few others in an hour and a bit - need to get ready.’ Then he looked down at his friend in the bed. ‘Is there anything I can help you with before I go? Anything you need?’ 

_Reassurance,_ Remus thought. _Proof that my boyfriend is who he says he is._

‘No, I’m fine,’ he said and forced a smile. ‘Thanks for dropping in, Wormtail. Nice of you.’

‘Don’t mention it,’ Peter said and smiled back. ‘See you when the leg’s better.’ And with a casual wave, he turned and left. Remus heard him passing through the house and closing the door behind him. For a long moment, he sat upright, unable even to lie back into a more comfortable position. He sensed it coming, but the blow of the realisation was harder than he had imagined it could be. 

‘Damn it,’ he whispered. ‘Bugger.’ The oaths felt like empty words. They could not describe the pain of realising what Sirius had become, and the anger against himself for having been petty enough to think that it was about him. He should decide what to do, whether to speak to Dumbledore or to bide his time and see what happened. But he knew that it was stupid to hope to be proved wrong. For now, however, he could not do anything. Instead, he indulged himself, curling up and allowing himself to weep into the pillow.


End file.
